When It Rains
by Phoenix Fidelius
Summary: Phoenix and Franziska are trapped in the courthouse in a storm! What chaos will ensue! Will probably be pretty significantly Phoenix x Franziska, unless I decide on a more friendshippy tack.


So, a multi-chapter, serious Nick and Franny fic. I've been wanting to do one for a while, and this just sort of appeared in my head today (as it always happens when I write, it seems xD). So, please enjoy! I will try and update frequently!

**Phoenix Wright and Co. are not owned by me. And if you didn't already know that then you deserve a whipping.**

* * *

The rain was falling down in sheets as she maneuvered her Mercedes through the drenched city. This was just one of the many reasons Franziska von Karma refused to drive anything other than a German car; it handled perfectly even in such miserable conditions. She laughed at the thought of Miles Edgeworth's foolish sports car slipping and sliding along the slick city streets.

Still, this weather really was deplorable. Franziska vowed to herself that she would crush her foolish court opponent quickly and be home in time to snuggle up with a blanket and a cup of hot tea to watch her favorite soap opera, All My Lawyers.

---

Phoenix Wright was sopping wet from his mad dash of six blocks from his apartment to the nearest subway station. Even his "Hair Glue Formula No. 9" was not impervious to such torrents of moisture. Why oh why had he let Maya borrow his umbrella?

Looking very much like a wet dog, Phoenix boarded the train to the courthouse, shivering and sneezing at regular intervals.

---

Franziska emerged from the elevator in the main court lobby, having taken it up from the underground parking garage. She was about to make her way to the courtroom when a most satisfying sight greeted her eyes.

Just to her right was the main street entrance, a set of three glass double doors. And bursting through them was one Mr. Phoenix Wright, who for all anyone could tell had just been swimming in his suit. Franziska put on her best smirk, and approached the panting, trembling defense attorney.

"Mr. Phoenix Wright. Lovely weather, is it not?" she greeted, taking an irresistible jab at his appearance.

His blue eyes flashed at her fiercely. "L – lovely…" he managed between the chattering of his teeth.

Franziska considered his plight. Clearly if this oaf showed up opposite her in court today looking like a drowned rat, he would not be at his best. And smashing Phoenix Wright into itty bitty pieces in court only meant something to Franziska if she did it when he was in full form, so that there would be no doubt that she was the superior one.

Franziska checked her silver, diamond-studded Rolex. "Follow me, you foolish fool. I think there should be some towels in the prosecutor's lounge. Plus, I always happen to carry an industrial-strength hair dryer with me, in case of emergencies," she said.

"E – emergencies? Wh – at k – kind of emer…" Phoenix stuttered slowly, but Franziska, annoyed, cut him off.

"Shut your foolish mouth, you fool, before I change my mind," she snapped. He simply glared at her, but finally decided that accepting her help was less humiliating and uncomfortable than remaining wet the rest of the day. But only by a little.

Franziska led them to the prosecutor's lounge, rummaging through her bag until she pulled out a rather intimidating piece of machinery.

"Are you sure you don't use that to burn holes in unsuspecting defense attorneys?" Phoenix said warily, finally having stopped shivering enough to articulate.

"No, usually I set it on low power and just char their skin for a bit. But for you, I will make an exception," she said, continuing his joke. "Here…" she thrust the large, silver hair dryer into his hands. "You dry off and I'll make some coffee."

Phoenix watched her with a curious expression on his face as she started the coffee pot. She caught him staring.

"What?" she retorted.

"Nothing…" he replied mildly. "The towels…?"

"Oh. They should be in that cabinet over there," she said, going back to her coffee-making.

"Thanks." Phoenix sighed. Maybe this wouldn't be such a bad day after all?

---

Their subsequent courtroom battle was just as fiery and intense as always, with much shouting and slamming of fists and pointing of fingers. Phoenix guessed that, even without Franziska's prior assistance, the heat in the courtroom would have been sufficient to dry him off just as quickly.

For her part, Franziska was pleased to see that Phoenix Wright was not pulling any punches, in spite of her helping him earlier. On the other hand, his objections were even wilder and more exasperating than usual, and on more than one occasion she felt she might like to whip him one across his smug little face…

---

The day would end in a stalemate. After much superfluous poking and prodding of her witnesses, Phoenix Wright had managed to reveal an almost shocking lack of evidence on the part of the prosecution, leaving Franziska in quite a tempestuous mood. She had stormed out of the courtroom before Phoenix had even gotten a chance to catch her, to properly thank her for that morning. As it was, he found himself talking with Maya on his cell phone.

"It's okay Maya; I understand you couldn't be in court today. I wouldn't want you traveling in this storm anyway." Maya had told him to call her as soon as he was done in court. He sat on a bench just outside the courtroom.

"Well, an old case that was tried in this very courthouse came up in the trial today, so I'm probably going to head down to the records room to research it," he said into his phone. He listened. "Ok then, I'll see you later. Say hi to Pearls for me." Click.

---

After wandering thickly through the courthouse basement in search of the records room, Phoenix finally found the end of the maze: a set of automatic sliding glass doors.

_Jeez, finally,_ Phoenix thought, irritated. _You'd think they'd post some signs or something._

The doors glided apart as he approached, and he found himself faced with huge cabinets and shelves, overflowing with boxes and manila folders and assorted papers. Phoenix felt his stomach drop…this was not going to be easy.

---

Phoenix had only been wandering the intimidating room for a few minutes when he collided straight into a stack of moving papers.

Without any time to consider the impossibility of a mountain of manuscripts moving autonomously, the spiky-haired man uttered an "Oof!" and was soon on his rear.

The pile of court documents replied, "Would you watch where you're going you foolish…oh."

Once the falling leaves of paper had settled, they revealed themselves not to be a sentient pile of pulp but a put-out, petulant prosecutor.

_Damn,_ thought Phoenix. He was sure he was in for it now. "Uhh…sorry, let me help you with – " he began hesitantly, Franziska interrupted.

"You. Don't touch any of that," she barked, standing up of her own accord.

"If those are for tomorrow's trial, I'm going to have to look at them eventually, too, you know…" he said. He stood there as she picked up her documents, obeying her command.

"Foolish fools who foolhardily get in my way can just _wait_ until I have finished with them," she returned coldly, having picked up the last of the fallen sheets.

Phoenix sighed heavily. "Wouldn't it go much faster if we both worked together on this?" he appealed. _Of course, not that _I _want to have to work with _you _either…_ he added privately. In any case, Phoenix was sure he'd take forever to comprehend the countless ledgers anyway, and if he had to wait for Franziska to finish he'd be here until court was in session the next day!

Franziska looked at him with a strange mixture of both fury and…exasperation? Or was that pity? Phoenix never was good at reading people.

"Fine!" she relented ultimately, flinging everything on a large, nearby table and taking a seat. She immediately began flipping through files without even a second glance at Phoenix.

He sat down tentatively across from her, and though he had no idea what he was supposed to be looking for, he didn't want Franziska to realize that. Thus, he chose a folder out at random and pretended like he knew what he was doing.

Minutes passed, the only sound coming from the rustling of turned pages and the shuffling of files in and out of boxes. Occasionally Franziska would get up and return moments later laden with still more documents. Phoenix sighed. He wasn't getting anywhere, and Franziska had scribbled pages upon pages of notes into a little tablet she produced from her bag.

He was staring absently at a particularly vexing piece of writing, and was just about to swallow what was left of his pride and ask Franziska for help (_For the second time today, damn it, _he berated himself), when she spoke first.

"That paper. If you are done gawking at it like a mindless ape, I would like to have a look at it," she said. In the sterile, artificial light of the record room, Franziska seemed…real. It was as if the fluorescent beams had shed away the smirking mask of daylight and revealed her true face. Not the hardened, snide prosecutor, but the young, naïve girl. Phoenix was rather taken aback by this assessment.

"Fool! You are gawking again! I – " but Franziska wouldn't finish her sentence, because at that moment, some miles out of town, the city's aging power plant had given way to the massive floods caused by the storm.

With a disconcerting reverberation of billions of watts of electrical equipment shutting down all at once, the court records room, and indeed much of the city, was plunged into darkness.

Phoenix lowered his head to the tabletop in defeat. "Crap."


End file.
